


An Ocean Away (from worry or care)

by CractasticDispatches



Series: TVXQ Drabbles [6]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Emotion Porn, M/M, also bits of mirror kink, just a little drabble about paris, we don't even know we just...., we tried to write something fluffy and this is the result
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CractasticDispatches/pseuds/CractasticDispatches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Paris is supposed to the city of love or the city or romance or something, so maybe that’s why. Why it happens the way it does. Because it certainly isn’t what Jaejoong would have thought. Mirrors should be kinky, after all...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ocean Away (from worry or care)

Paris is beautiful. And different. Different from anything any of them have ever known, even Yoochun, who lived in the states for a while. Jaejoong likes new things and enjoys seeing new places, but this is even better; not just an adventure but also a relief of sorts. After the chaos of the last year it’s good to be somewhere entirely new. Somewhere so far away from home, from Korea where everyone knows them by sight and where all their memories are _(so many things he doesn’t want to remember right now; his parents, his family, the churn of his gut every time he visited home)_. He thinks it’s good for Yunho too. To get away. To be somewhere where no one’s ever tried to hurt him. To be somewhere almost no one really recognizes them. And maybe for the others, too. They may not have been at the center of so much drama, the way Jaejoong and Yunho were, but they were still there. Would have felt the stress, the tension, eating away at their hyungs all year. So it’s good. It’s good to go. Jaejoong almost feels as if being somewhere entirely new somehow gives him room to become someone entirely new as well. Like here he doesn’t have to carry who he’s been with him.

He can’t believe what a difference it makes.

He can’t believe how nice it is.

And it’s maybe especially nice because, not only does so much of the stress seem to be just falling away, but he and Yunho manage to get a room all to themselves. For the entire trip. Which shouldn’t be so surprising; they room together all the time when they’re traveling, but this is different. This is long. And though they have schedules, it’s not like it is when they’re on tour. And this is a completely different country and a completely different culture and neither of them speaks much french and they’re so far from home and this is a place where same-sex couples not only happen but are more or less accepted _(and the company doesn’t_ know _, even their dongsaengs don’t_ know _— though they, at least, probably suspect something by now — but with the fan service and the sataxis and everything, the managers are always careful. Try to avoid scandals at any cost)_ and so although they had hoped, neither of them really thought it would be allowed. Thought that between all of that, the managers or the company or someone would find a reason that they shouldn’t just stick to the usual room arrangements.

But when they check into the hotel and Yunho starts handing out room keys like it’s business as usual, no one says anything. _(Of course, they might just be too tired because the flight was long and the time difference is insane, and Jaejoong can’t actually sleep on planes and travel is always exhausting and since none of them speaks French they’ve been talking through translators ever since they landed and even Junsu, who usually has more energy than all of them, is so tired he can’t even walk straight. In fact, Jaejoong thinks the only person who’s not completely dead on their feet is Yoochun, who can sleep anywhere and spent the entire flight passed out on Junsu’s shoulder.)_

And Jaejoong is glad, because the room is gorgeous. Not huge, though definitely not small, and the windows look out on the city — fountains and buildings made of old stone and intricately carved, and their apartment back home has a good view of Seoul at night but Paris is so different; a little less modern. A little more clearly built on and around something historic — and even the room itself feels different. The decor suggesting something older, something maybe a bit renaissance, elegant flourishes on furniture and walls simply for the sake of beauty and bits of shiny all over, pretty without being gaudy. It’s the strangest mix of elegant and relaxed Jaejoong’s ever encountered and though it’s strange to him, he finds that he likes it.

There’s only one bed. And that’s never happened before and they rarely do anything the first night anyway because travel really is exhausting and they always have to get up early the next morning, but it’s so, so nice to not have to sleep in separate beds. To not have to be in the same room but not the same bed at least one night because they have to at least make it look like both beds are being used in case anyone comes in. And this bed is hotel-sized huge and the kind of soft and surrounding that will probably be a little too comfortable later, a little too luxurious, but that right now just feels absolutely wonderful.

Jaejoong doesn’t even bother to brush his teeth. Or wash his face or get changed or anything. He’s too tired. He just strips down to his underwear and falls face-first into bed, leaving Yunho to turn out the light. A few moments later the room is dark and Yunho is sliding in beside him, pulling the covers up over them and dropping a kiss into Jaejoong’s hair. Jaejoong hums at him, already half asleep, and gropes around, latching onto Yunho’s waist.

He’s not sure how he knows that Yunho is smiling, because it’s dark and Jaejoong isn’t even looking at him anyway, his face still buried in the pillows, but he does. And he’s pretty sure when he wakes up Yunho will be wrapped around him like some kind of overgrown, mutant octopus; all long legs and strong arms and a nose buried in Jaejoong’s hair. _(And sometimes, lately, that’s something that Jaejoong hasn’t really wanted. That has felt like too much, somehow, and he’ll wake up and feel too hot and too restricted and just need to get out. Need space to breathe. But now, here, in this room that’s more like art than space and this city where no one knows them, he finds that thought doesn’t bother him. Finds it kind of endearing, actually.)_

He squeezes Yunho’s waist. Hums again. Knows Yunho will understand. Feels, somehow, Yunho’s smile get even bigger as he shifts closer, throwing an arm over Jaejoong’s back and pressing his chest up against Jaejoong’s shoulder.

“Love you, too,” he says quietly. “Goodnight.”

  


They have almost the entire first day free. And the company wants them to film a lot of this, make a thing of it for the fans, and there is a sort of meet-and-greet planned for the evening with the people who will be doing their photoshoots but other than that there’s nothing so they’re free to explore the city. For once, Jaejoong doesn’t even care that they’re always under the watchful eyes of their managers. Everything here is so different and so interesting that he almost doesn’t notice anything else. The food is bizarre; everything so creamy or so rich or so sweet, far more so than anything back home. People bring their dogs seemingly everywhere and nobody seems to be in any kind of hurry and again there’s that strange sense of relaxed elegance almost everywhere they go. As if even chairs and tables and doorways here are viewed as things than can be art.

It’s fascinating and Jaejoong wants to look at everything.

Yunho is in high spirits. Seems happier, freer than he’s been in a long time. Jaejoong thinks it might be the first time since he was hospitalized that they’ve gone anywhere as a group and Yunho hasn’t been in that way-too-alert state. Hasn’t needed to constantly be watching everyone and everything. To always, always know where every single one of them is all the time. The first time he’s really played with them like this again, where it wasn’t just for someone else’s eyes but because he just wanted to.

He talks them all into trying crepes with him and daubs whipped cream on Jaejoong’s nose. He sneaks over to a man on the corner and buys a bag of something then scatters the contents on the ground all around them and suddenly there’s just pigeons everywhere. He has Jaejoong take pictures of him — and then a few with him — in ridiculous poses with statues. He gets distracted by every dog they walk past.

After lunch they walk through a section of the city that seems to mostly consist of little shops; bookstores and antique furniture, art dealers and private jewelers, and Yunho grabs Changmin and starts dragging him around, joking about how he should finally get a second set of holes in his ears to commemorate the trip, pointing to pairs of earrings that are as far from Changmin’s style as it is possible to get, huge and gaudy and frankly just weird. Changmin rolls his eyes _(because they all know he’s never getting another piercing. Didn’t even really want the ones he has but put up with them when company insisted)_ , but follows Yunho good-naturedly enough. Plays along, some, even, pointing to things that aren’t even earrings and teasing that maybe if there were earrings like that he’d at least consider second holes.

Yoochun picks up the game at some point, finding the absolute weirdest or tackiest pieces of jewelry he can and bringing them to Junsu, saying they should get matching ones to wear to fanmeets. And Junsu, who still seems to have some weird disconnect about presentation and fanservice, just stares and stares at his hyung as though he’s afraid for his sanity.

And Jaejoong just watches, smiling so big his face hurts, and can’t believe how long it’s been since they were all relaxed enough to just goof around like this. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed it til now.

So when they stop for some kind of ice cream — and it’s not really ice cream; is actually much richer and creamier than ice cream, something their interpreter tells them is called ‘gelato’ — and Yunho tells Jaejoong to cover for him, Jaejoong isn’t particularly inclined to say no.

“Should you go alone, though?” he asks, sucking gelato off his plastic spoon and eyeing the managers to make sure they’re not being watched too closely. “What if you get lost?”

“I won’t,” Yunho promise. “I know where I’m going. And you can’t come with me or it won’t be a surprise.”

Jaejoong blinks. A surprise? For him? He looks sidelong at Yunho, digging the toe of one boot into the floor beneath his seat and suddenly feeling shy in a way he hasn’t, not for a long time.

“What kind of surprise?” he asks.

Yunho looks over at him and grins _(and Jaejoong had kind of forgotten how dazzling that grin could be and is he actually blushing right now?)_.

“Not telling,” Yunho says, his voice happy and a little bit sing-song. A little bit pleased with himself. “You’ll just have to be patient and find out. And cover for me, so I can go and get it.”

And, yeah, Jaejoong definitely might be blushing right now, and he sticks his tongue out. Tells Yunho he’s a tease. Then he tells Yunho that he’d better keep his phone on him and answer any text Jaejoong sends him, even if it just says ‘ok,’ and to make it quick. Yunho promises, says it should only take half an hour or so, and then slips out a back door. Jaejoong keeps quiet and finishes his gelato as slowly as he can. Nobody even notices Yunho is missing until about ten minutes later when they all start getting up to leave. Jaejoong tells them Yunho went to the bathroom and might be while; they may as well check out some of the other shops around the area while they wait. As long as they don’t go too far Yunho should be able to catch them up.

They won’t believe him forever, of course, but lots of travel and strange food can mess up anybody’s system so for now at least no one will question it if Yunho seems to be taking a while. Fifteen minutes later, the managers are starting to get antsy in a way that Jaejoong knows spells trouble and he’s really glad that he’s all but memorized his phone’s key pad. It makes texting Yunho ‘what’s taking so long?!’ much easier to do without anyone noticing. And he knows Yunho texts slowly, knows that that’s why Yunho always just calls him back now, even for just little things, so he waits. Makes himself. Takes a few minutes to pretend to get caught up chasing pigeons. And Yoochun follows, dragging Junsu along with him, and Jaejoong leads them all on a merry little chase around the block and by the time Yunho texts him back, ‘sorry, sorry,’ and then a minute later, ‘farther than I thought,’ the managers are too busy scolding to remember about Yunho.

Two minutes later, Yunho finally shows up, breathing hard, clearly having run all or at least most of the way back.

“Sorry, sorry,” he pants, and his eyes find Jaejoong’s, apology and gratitude there.

“Ah, hyung, are you okay?” asks Changmin, walking over to peer at Yunho with concern. “You were in the bathroom a long time.”

Yunho blinks. “Oh, no, I’m fine,” he says. “It wasn’t that long, I just—”

Jaejoong closes his eyes. Because Yunho really is a terrible liar, especially when he’s not prepared for it, and he hates to worry people, especially Changmin, and—

“Ah, was there a dog?” asks Yoochun, smirking a little. “Did you get distracted?”

Yunho’s eyes flick between Changmin, the managers, and Yoochun. Then he grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“I can’t help it,” he says. “They’re so cute and no one here seems to mind letting me pet them.”

The managers scold, lightly, and Yunho bows his head and apologizes, and Jaejoong breathes a sigh of relief. This surprise better have been worth it.

  


It is. It absolutely is. It’s worth everything; covering, lying, chasing pigeons and getting scolded and then having to wait all through the official dinner with the photoshoot staff, where Yunho sits next to him and winds a foot around his ankle under the table. Jaejoong spends most of dinner silent, focusing on his plate and feeling that strange, new-old shyness again. The one that makes his stomach flutter. Makes him blush and laugh like an idiot — too big and too loud — when Yunho takes his hand on the walk back to the hotel, striding along and swinging their arms ridiculously.

And it doesn’t bother him when the others fall into step with them, making them a string of five; too big to fit on the sidewalk anymore, and the people in the cars going by give them odd looks. Or when the managers scold them for being so silly. It doesn’t bother him when they reach the hotel and have to drop hands or when they get onto the elevator and he and Yunho end up on opposite sides, bandmates and managers and a few other guests all piled in between them. Yunho’s eyes stay on him the whole way up, and Jaejoong has to try very hard not to grin or blush or duck his head too much or do anything too obvious. That might give them away. _(He’s not sure how successful he is, though, because mostly he has to try hard just to meet Yunho’s eyes and every time he does he gets embarrassed. Feels that flutter again. Has to look away, look at the floor or his fingers or other people’s feet – anything other than that dark gaze that just never leaves him.)_

By the time they get back to their room, waving goodnight to the others then closing the door behind them, Jaejoong is so caught between the strange shyness and the anticipation – the excitement – that he hardly knows which way to turn. So instead he just goes over to his suitcase. Grabs the little box he keeps his jewelry in to travel and starts switching out his day earrings for the little studs he wears to sleep in.

Arms wind around his waist. Pull him snug against the chest at his back. Warm breath tickles his ear as Yunho noses into his hair.

“Are you going right to sleep or can I give you your surprise now?” he asks.

Jaejoong closes his eyes. Leans back. And, god, _god_ , he’s missed this _(and that makes no sense because they’ve been together all this last year and it’s not like they haven’t had time or been intimate; they have. But this is different somehow. Relaxed in a way they haven’t been in so long and it feels so nice – he’d almost forgotten how nice it could be – and Jaejoong kind of wants to stay here forever)._

“Hmm, will I like the surprise?” he asks. Teases. Tilts his head so Yunho can nuzzle his neck. Of course he wants to know what it is. He’s never been any good at being patient.

“Ah, I think so,” says Yunho, pressing a kiss just under Jaejoong’s ear and taking one of his hands back to fish around in a pocket. “I hope so.” He pulls out a small box, long and thin, and offers it to Jaejoong. Hooks his chin over Jaejoong’s shoulder. Waits. Jaejoong can feel the strange tension in him, excited, but maybe also nervous. Self-conscious.

Jaejoong reaches out. Closes his fingers around the box. Removes the lid. And then stares, nonplussed.

“Just one?” he asks.

Yunho hums and shakes his head, smiling now. “It’s two,” he says. “Watch.” He lifts the ring from the fabric lining the box, holds it in both hands, makes a complicated sort of twisting motion. And he’s right, it is two. Two rings that fit together to make one. Jaejoong’s mouth falls open.

“The man I got them from said the design is old. Some traditional Irish wedding band or something. I mean, he changed the design some — made it more modern, I think. But that’s the idea.” He’s talking like he needs to explain. Like he thinks Jaejoong doesn’t understand. “I know we have rings. The ones the fans gave us, and the Cartier ones. And I like those, but – but people know about those. And they obviously match. We did that on purpose, I know, so we could get away with it. Could say it was just fanservice. But – but that’s – I guess I wanted something that was just ours. Something no one would be able to tell just by looking. But that, if we ever showed them, they couldn’t possibly say was just fanservice.”

Jaejoong reaches up. Traces one of the rings with a finger. The bands are simple, silver, or possibly white gold, and the designs don’t match, exactly. Looking at them, no one would ever guess that they were part of a set, not until you put them back together. But they are a set. They fit together so perfectly that Jaejoong couldn’t even tell it was two rings until Yunho showed him. And there are two chains inside the box, too. So they can always wear them, even just under their clothes. Like the Cartier rings they already have. Only this is better.

“I had them inscribed,” Yunho continues quietly. “Just our initials. Just a ‘Y’ and a ‘J,’ in English. I don’t know, maybe it’s silly but –”

And silly is the absolute last thing in the world this is. And Jaejoong isn’t laughing. Jaejoong is barely breathing, his eyes fixed on the rings, still in Yunho’s hands. He takes one, closing his fingers around it so carefully. Like he’s afraid it might break _(the ring, the moment, maybe everything. Only it won’t. It won’t. For the first time in months, he might actually be sure of that. Might actually believe it)_. He turns the ring, looking inside for the inscription. Finds a tiny ‘J’ at the bottom. He takes the other ring. Finds the ‘Y.’ They match and don’t match; completely different letters, completely different shapes, but the same delicate, curling script.

“Jae?” Yunho asks. And he sounds a little hesitant. A little uncertain.

Jaejoong closes his fingers around the band with the ‘J.’ Presses the one with the ‘Y’ back onto Yunho’s. Shucks every other ring he’s wearing, dropping them unceremoniously into his suitcase. Then, wordlessly, he holds up his hand. Spreads his fingers out. Behind him, Yunho’s breath shudders, just the tiniest little bit. He slips the ring onto Jaejoong’s finger and Jaejoong knows it’s impossible, knows he’s just imagining it, but he could swear he can feel the ‘Y’ there at the bottom, transposed against his skin.

Yunho stays dead still for a second, staring over Jaejoong’s shoulder. Then he pulls his hands away. Takes off all his own rings. Offers up his hand. And Jaejoong can’t believe his own hands are steady enough to slide the ring on, but they are and he does and they tangle their fingers together, and Jaejoong feels rather than hears the rings clink against each other. He twists his head back. Finds Yunho’s mouth with his own. And he’s not sure who’s kissing who but it doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter at all because it’s long and deep and different. More, somehow, than maybe any other kiss they’ve shared.

Jaejoong turns. Reaches up to wind his arms around Yunho’s neck. To slide his fingers into his hair. Sort of means to keep kissing him but forgets when he sees Yunho’s face. When their eyes meet.

Yunho stares right back. Brings his hands up to cup Jaejoong’s face. To run a hand through his hair.

“Yeah?”

And Jaejoong isn’t quite sure what he’s asking — Yeah, he likes the surprise? Yeah, it was worth the wait? Yeah, he really means it? Or maybe something else entirely. Something more than words. Bigger. — but he knows the answer. Knows it because it’s the same no matter what.

“Yeah.”

Yunho doesn’t smile. Or laugh. Or even change his expression at all. Just keeps staring at Jaejoong’s face. Keeps stroking his hair. But Jaejoong thinks he understands. Because this is bigger than simple reactions. Which is weird because on some level that’s exactly what this is: simple. More simple than singing, or speaking in harmony. More simple than breathing, even. Maybe the simplest thing.

Yunho bends down to kiss him, and he doesn’t have to bend as far as he used to. And Jaejoong’s not used to thinking of himself as being tall. Is so used to being the smallest — to his sisters who are all older than him, to Yoochun who’s so broad, to Yunho who’s always been taller, to Junsu who’s not actually any taller then Jaejoong but whose personality always seems to take up so much space, and Changmin who’s already huge, already taller than all of them and still hasn’t stopped growing — that somehow he’s never really thought of himself any other way. Didn’t really notice his body changing, becoming a man’s.

He’s not sure why that hits him right in this moment. Not sure why it matters. Why it feels important somehow. But it does.

Yunho’s hands are still in his hair, stroking, tugging a little but not hard. And the kiss is slow rather than heated or hurried. And for once, Jaejoong doesn’t feel the need to speed things up. To push things further. Is okay just letting this go where it will. Okay with Yunho sucking gently on his lower lip. With sliding his hands around to Yunho’s back, stroking the curve of his spine, enjoying the feel of the muscle there, denser between his shoulders, thinner but more firm over his ribs, smoother and more supple around his shoulder blades.

Yunho’s tongue slips past his teeth and Jaejoong sighs. Wraps his arms up around Yunho’s shoulders. Holds on as Yunho sweeps the inside of his mouth, slow and thorough, like he’s making sure he doesn’t miss anything. Those hands finally leave Jaejoong’s hair, but only to wrap around him, across his shoulders and around his waist, pulling him in. Holding him close as Yunho kisses him like they have all the time in the world.

And Jaejoong lets him. Lets him hold Jaejoong close and kiss him slow and thorough. Lets him push Jaejoong’s jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor. Lets him pull Jaejoong slowly in the direction of the bathroom, shedding clothing as they go. Follows him into the shower where they wash each other, running their hands over every inch of skin, through every curl of hair. Lets Yunho towel them off, then lead him back the bedroom. Lets Yunho touch, running his hands and his mouth everywhere; sliding slowly down his neck to his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his hips, then down to his thighs. And then around, up to his back. And when Yunho moves them, pushes Jaejoong gently, so gently, down onto the bed on his hands and knees, Jaejoong lets him do that too. Lets him run his hands all over Jaejoong’s back, lets him curl around him to kiss his neck, reach under him to stroke him to full hardness.

And it’s different. Feels a little more naked, a little more exposed, than when they do this face to face. But Yunho wraps an arm around him, presses up behind him, holds Jaejoong as much as he can while his free hand slips between his cheeks and begins working him open. And somehow that makes it okay. Makes it right.

He’s gone half-soft by the time Yunho enters him, but that’s okay too. Gives Yunho something to do, something else to concentrate on while he holds still; running his hands over Jaejoong’s chest and belly, sucking at his neck and his ear, stroking him hard again while he waits for Jaejoong to adjust.

They know each other so well now, know each other’s bodies so completely, that they don’t even need words. Don’t need to ask or tell like they used to. Jaejoong can feel the tension in Yunho’s body, feel the quiver in his arms and his hands, and knows how much he wants _(needs)_ to move. How hard he’s working not to. And Yunho knows exactly how to touch him to distract him, can feel it when Jaejoong relaxes enough for him to start moving. Knows to go slowly, and then a little faster, a little deeper, just by the way Jaejoong responds, fisting his hands in the sheets, or pushing back with his hips. Choking on a whimper when Yunho brushes his prostate.

It’s different like this. He can’t see Yunho, can’t see his face when he moans or the way his eyes start to look heavy. Can’t smell him as much, either. Can’t bury his face in Yunho’s neck or chest and just breathe him in. But everything else seems a bit more, somehow. Like every touch is amplified because he couldn’t see it coming. Like every sound Yunho makes goes all the way to his bones.

It’s also surprisingly exhausting — surprising because Jaejoong is strong, strong enough to lift Yunho, strong enough to flip him when they dance and not break a sweat. But this is different and his arms start to shake and he goes down on one elbow, even though he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to lose the feeling of Yunho behind him, pressing all along his back when he leans down to kiss Jaejoong’s neck.

Yunho’s arms come around him, tug him upwards. Like he knows. Like he wants the contact too. Jaejoong follows, and Yunho lifts them up and back, onto their knees. And it’s a little easier this way, which maybe it shouldn’t be, but they’re dancers and it was mostly just Jaejoong’s arms that were getting tired. And from here his weight is on his knees and Yunho’s hands grip his hip and his thigh to steady him and he can lean back into Yunho’s chest. Just a little. Just enough to balance. Just enough to feel.

And then he opens his eyes.

It isn’t what Jaejoong would have thought. Not at all like he would have expected if anyone had ever asked. If he’d ever thought about it. Because mirrors should be kinky. Or awkward. Something that you see in porn and that maybe seems hot there but never actually works out that way in real life because although porn does its best and can certainly get the job done, it just hasn’t got a thing on real life and some things are just too weird or too cheesy to ever be anything other than absurd. Be anything other than bad porno.

But their room has a mirror, set on the wall right across from the bed. And when Jaejoong looks, when he suddenly realizes that it’s there, that he can see them in it — see the tops of Yunho’s thighs and his head thrown back behind Jaejoong’s shoulder, see the stretch of his own naked body, the paleness of his skin and his hair hanging damp and sweaty around his face _(and normally he’d never see because this isn’t how they usually do this, with Yunho behind him like this. Isn’t how they ever do this)_ — when he realizes all that, it’s not anything like bad porn. It’s not anything like porn at all.

Jaejoong freezes. Moves forward a little, and Yunho moves behind him, following, gripping his hips in order to keep their bodies together. Jaejoong reaches behind him, slides his fingers into Yunho’s hair.

“Jae, what—”

“Look,” Jaejoong says, breathes, tugs gently at his hair, pulling his head over so he can see. “Look.”

Yunho stops moving. His eyes fix on their reflections, stare, go a little wide. Jaejoong feels the breath leave him, puffing out hard against his shoulder.

It should be like porn. It should be weird. It should be awkward or vulgar or embarrassing. But it’s not.

One of Yunho’s hands moves, splays out over Jaejoong’s belly. The silver of the ring glints. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and Yunho’s are so, so dark, and Jaejoong’s never been able to see himself like this before. To see that same darkness in his own eyes. And it’s like a secret. A secret with no words; something whispered between them and the glass, ratcheting up the intensity even more and taking Jaejoong’s breath away. Yunho starts to move again. Slow. Deep. Too deliberate to be tender but too full of desire _(and maybe something else. Something bigger. Something that makes Jaejoong so glad for the press of Yunho’s hand on his belly and the solidity of Yunho’s chest at his back. Makes him need it, that steadiness, to counter the way he’s suddenly quaking inside. To keep him grounded here and not lost in the thing he thinks he sees there in the mirror)_ to be anything else.

Jaejoong stretches, arching his back. Leaning into the hand still pressed against his stomach and the other one now sliding up his side and across his chest to his shoulder. Rocking back onto Yunho. Twisting his head back for a kiss, a bit messy because of the angle but still so good; Yunho’s tongue against his and his fingers still entwined in Yunho’s hair as Yunho moves again and again and again. As they stare at each other, at themselves, at their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm.

And they’ve done a lot of things, so many, many things. But here in this room, watching in the mirror as Yunho rocks into him, as his own body arches and shudders with pleasure, watching as they unravel together — quietly, almost silent, the only sound the harshness of their breathing and the soft creak of the bed beneath them — Jaejoong doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything more intimate in his life.

When it’s over, Yunho cleans them off with a spare towel and tosses it into the corner with their dirty clothes. But when he stretches out beside Jaejoong, he doesn’t reach out, doesn’t move to pull Jaejoong close the way he usually does. Instead he props himself up on one elbow and just stares. Trails his fingers slowly, lightly, up Jaejoong’s body, up to his face. Brushes a strand of blond back behind his ear. And there’s something in his eyes, something maybe a bit awed. Something almost like reverence except, of course, that’s impossible. Jaejoong is just Jaejoong. _(Just a boy whose birth mother couldn’t keep him. Whose adoptive family just wanted a son after eight daughters. Someone who was probably hired mostly for his looks rather than his talent because although he could sing by the time he auditioned that second time, he still wasn’t great and they couldn’t have know how much he’d improve with time and proper training._

_Certainly not someone who deserves a look like that.)_

Jaejoong opens his mouth, to say something, to try to tell Yunho not to look at him like that. Not to give him something that big when he’s never done anything to earn or deserve it. Yunho’s thumb strokes the corner of his eye. And the words get stuck in his throat as something else takes up residence in his chest. Something that aches and soothes at the same time. Something far too big for words. So he closes his mouth. Brings up a hand. Slides it under Yunho’s and laces their fingers together.

The ring on Yunho’s finger glimmers in the soft light when he twists their hands around, and Jaejoong presses his lips there in a kiss and he’s not even sure why or what he’s trying to say but it feels right somehow. Another secret. Another thing with no words. And he still can’t quite hold Yunho’s gaze so he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against their interlocked fingers. Breathes.

Yunho lays down. Shifts closer. Kisses Jaejoong’s shoulder then tucks his head there, the soft warm of his breath and the curve of his smile falling there against Jaejoong’s neck. And when Jaejoong finally falls asleep, it’s with Yunho’s arm across his chest, their fingers still tangled together, and the smell of Yunho’s hair in his nose. And the curve of that smile, still pressed against his skin.


End file.
